The Night Before Christmas
by AtlantianFanofEarth
Summary: Munch solves the biggest mystery of the planet on Christmas Eve. Very childishly written, just a warning.


John Munch was a detective with the Special Victims Unit. He was a very good detective and had solved a lot of mysteries.

Tonight was Christmas Eve, and like almost every other night of the year, Munch was busy, toiling away at his desk. He was trying to solve the biggest mystery of them all this year, one that had everyone up late at night, parents and children fearful, world leaders worried, a mystery that rested on everyone's mind…WHERE HAD ALL THE SNOW GONE?

Scientists had come up with several theories and everyone had their own. But none of them totally solved the mystery…Why had all the snow on the entire planet, disappeared in a single instant three weeks ago? Global warming could not possibly explain that.

The case has intrigued Munch, and as one of the world's bestest, coolest and sexiest detectives, he was on the case.

He sat at his desk on this snowless Christmas Eve, like he had the past three weeks and pondered. WHO, or WHAT, could be cruel enough to steal the stuff of holidays, snow?

After long nights of deliberations, he decided to finally get on the trail and follow the tracks to wherever they may lead. He decided to start at the window display at Sak's.

The air was full of depressed Christmas cheer, last minute shoppers looking to the sky for a glimpse of cloud or snow. There was clue in the window. The real snow that had been in the window as part of the display was missing! Munch asked to see the tapes.

He immediately found a suspect. Three weeks ago, at the same instant all the snow had been stolen, a short person dressed as a Santa, with pointy ears, was seen taking the snow from the display and stuffing into a sack. It took the person less a second to complete his act.

Munch quickly got on the trail, which involved some fuzz, a hair and the runner of a sled. It led directly to the North Pole! As Munch searched the landscape, he was surprised to find that he was standing in front of none other than Santa's workshop.

One of the elves, dressed much like the one taking the snow, led Munch into the building. It was full of elves packaging snow! Munch got angry. He started to yell. "WHY DID YOU TAKE ALL THE SNOW?"

The elf cringed at his shouting and told him that he should probably see the big guy himself. The elf also told Munch that the elves has been packaging snow the past three weeks instead of toys, and that they were all getting frostbite, especially in the underground bunkers.

Munch fumed. He was furious! How could this happen? When he got in to see Santa, without a how-do-you-do?, he started to yell. "WHY DID YOU TAKE ALL THE SNOW? Don't you see you've ruined the holiday spirit? Everyone is depressed, husks of their former vibrant, ignorant selves!"

Santa was scared by Munch's display of behavior. He innocently replied in a quiet voice, "I had a dream three weeks ago and it made me have a change in plans. I just wanted to bring snow to everyone, so they could have the holiday spirit, even where they don't normally have snow."

Munch was surprised that Santa was apparently no more than a child. "Don't you realize that the snow will just melt in the hotter parts?" "Oh."

"Santa, you must put the snow back where it belongs. Those who live where there isn't snow are used to it, and those who live with snow miss it. Wrapping up snow is not the best of ideas. You're upsetting the balance of nature!"

Santa realized his mistake. "Of course, John, you're right…but what will I do about the toys I haven't been able to make? I am missing a million of the usual billion."

Munch was tired and just wanted to go home. He had done his job. Santa was going to put the snow back to where it belonged. "So what if Christmas will be a sparse? I'm sure everyone will understand. Can I go home now?"

Santa beckoned to the elf waiting outside the door. The elf took Munch by hand and led him to another elf, who before Munch could stop him, whacked him over the head with a hammer.

Munch woke very late Christmas Eve at his desk, his head on a stack of files. There was a note next to him. "Thanks John. – S.C" He read the note, amazed and rushed outside. It was snowing. He could only wonder.

A/N: Yes, this was utterly terrible. It is supposed to be a child's story. I wrote it for a friend for Christmas.


End file.
